


Hereditary Enemies

by brokencasbutt67



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Holding Hands, Kissing, M/M, Nightmares, Worried Aziraphale (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 23:21:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20236045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokencasbutt67/pseuds/brokencasbutt67
Summary: This is entirely based off of the amazing comic HEREDITARY ENEMIES by tumblr user @smudgeandfrank





	Hereditary Enemies

Before we begin, here are the links to each chapter of the comic.

[One](https://smudgeandfrank.tumblr.com/post/186344038718/were-hereditary-enemies-after-all-part-1-2) [Two](https://smudgeandfrank.tumblr.com/post/186448807523/why-wont-you-let-me-push-you-away-part-1-2) [Three](https://smudgeandfrank.tumblr.com/post/186618416368/what-if-im-not-me-part-3-parts-1-4-are-on-my) [Four](https://smudgeandfrank.tumblr.com/post/186806024338/open-up-my-dear-part-4-parts-1-4-are-on-my) [Five](https://smudgeandfrank.tumblr.com/post/186984757393/couldnt-hurt-to-have-company-i-suppose-part)

* * *

Crowley jolted awake, the duvet cover pooled at his waist. Beneath the cover, his sweat-soaked skin is naked. He regrets it now, he wishes he was covered with clothes – he feels open, _exposed. _

This isn’t the first night the image has hit his head while he wants to sleep. _He feels like an outsider, watching as he plunges something, a sword he thinks, deep into Aziraphale’s chest. A tear leaks from the angel’s eye. And then, every time, he wakes up with Aziraphale’s pained expression burned into his mind, calling out for the angel. _

This time, this time it’s different. Armageddon was stopped, successfully he must add. Sitting up, sweat drips down his chest, wiped away by the dark duvet cover. Crowley looks to his phone, and for the first time since he’s had these nightmares, he makes the call.   
  
The ringing of the phone is agonising. The anxiety builds in his chest, so much so that he covers himself with his favourite, silk boxer shorts in the hopes that it will calm his anxiety, even if only by a miniscule amount.   
“Come on angel, be alright…please” He cries out as the ringing gets longer. Crowley is debating ending the call when finally,_ finally,_ there is an answer. Sleep is filling Aziraphale’s voice as he answers the call.   
“Ngh…H-hello” He answers, holding the phone to his ear.   
“Angel!!” Crowley says. Immediately he is overwhelmed by the feeling of happiness, relief.   
“Crowley?” Aziraphale asks, rubbing his eyes and hiding a yawn.   
“Ah…h-hey” Crowley says, trying to hide the mixed emotions from his voice as he sighs.   
“You… You okay, Aziraphale?” He asks, before Aziraphale can question him. The question isn’t only for Aziraphale, it’s to calm Crowley’s racing heart too.   
“Am I okay?” Aziraphale, completely confused by the question.   
“Yes, I’m just fine. Are _you_ alright, Crowley? You sound dreadful…_and_ calling at this hour must mean something -” Before Aziraphale can finish, Crowley cuts in with a response.   
“I’m fine” He says, abruptly.   
“Crowley -“ Aziraphale says, completely exasperated.   
“I said I’m fine” Crowley snaps, immediately feeling _awful_ about what he’s said.   
“Just…just felt like checking in is all” Crowley added.

Crowley was sat on his bed, he hasn’t moved since he finally got an answer to his call.   
“For a demon you have never been a good liar, Dear. Why don’t I hop on over to your place and see y-” Aziraphale suggests, again Crowley cuts him off.   
“No!” The thought of Aziraphale seeing Crowley like _this _is a killer to him.   
“Just… Just go back to bed and forget I even called…’night” He says, voice slightly softer. Before Aziraphale can respond, Crowley slams the phone down into his pillow, the call cutting off with a click.

For the next several moments, the phone buzzes against the pillow, lighting up with the angel’s smiling face. A tear wells in Crowley’s eye, partly from the pained look in Aziraphale’s face that would forever be imprinted in his mind.   
“Leave me alone…for your sake” He murmurs, resting his elbows on his knees, sobbing into the gap created as the phone continued to buzz away, being the only noise that filled the room.

Crowley stays in that position for a while. He isn’t entirely sure how long passes until there’s a soft knock at the door. He hears the hesitation to begin with, he hears the sound of the angel’s wings, appearing outside of the door. Crowley spins to face the door, stray tears flying onto the duvet. He slithers over to the door, _silently. _Through the peep hole, Crowley can see Aziraphale. He has a look in his eyes, one Crowley just _can’t_ place. The angel’s sleepwear is exactly what Crowley had expected it to be like: tartan, a shirt and trousers with a matching cap.   
“Hello? Crowley, dear?” Aziraphale’s voice is shaky, soft in the silent of the night.   
“I – I know you said not visit, but” Aziraphale stutters. He know Crowley can hear him, he’s almost certain that the demon is on the other side of the door, but he doesn’t want to intrude. He wants to respect the demon’s boundaries, and this is the way to do it. 

“Your call truly worried me… Can you at the very least let me see you so I know you are alright?” Aziraphale asks. After a few moments of silence.   
“Crowley, I know you’re there. Please open the door, my dear. I am here to help y-” He says, _pleading. _Before he can finish speaking, Crowley responds.   
“You stupid fucking angel! You can’t _help_ me. I’m a god damned demon! I’m a walking time bomb of death and destruction. I could kill you with a snap of my finger. I’m sick and tired of you acting like you don’t get that!”   
“You fu…ss...” Crowley sighs. He can’t bringing himself to get the insult out. _He’ll never insult the demon. _

“Just….Get the fuck out of here will you? I don’t wanna…” He sighs.   
“No one can_ help_ me, so… leave me alone” Crowley sighs, falling against the door. He sighs, not looking through the peep hole. By not looking at Aziraphale, he feels as though the angel won’t see him like this. Gulping in the air, he looks through the peep hole, his eyes still filling with tears.

He’s taken aback when he sees nothing but the plain white wall across the hall. _Did he leave? _Crowley’s heart sinks, _fuck. I’m a fucking idiot. I’ve lost the angel because I’m a fucking idiot. _

“Az...ira…” He gasps out, the tears flowing freely now.   
“I’m still here Crowley” Aziraphale responds. Crowley immediately feels and overwhelming amount of relief. He almost cries at the angel’s soft,_ caring_ voice.   
“Just…taking it all in…” Aziraphale continues.   
“You don’t need to let me in… but I will not leave you in this state” Aziraphale continued. He slouched down, crouching against the door. His bunny slippers slid against the floor of the apartment block.   
“Just…talk to me, won’t you, my dear?” Aziraphale begs.

Crowley slides down against the door, looking against the wood. He’s so tempted to open the door, to let the angel into his arms. He can’t though, the fear that he’ll hurt the angel is overwhelming.   
“Even after everything I just said…you still won’t leave?” Crowley murmurs.   
“Absolutely not. I will not move from this spot until I am certain that you are alright, Crowley” Aziraphale stated. Crowley sighed. He lets out a bittersweet chuckle.  
“Heh…you damned angels and your unwavering faith” He mutters.  
“It is truly our modus operadi” Aziraphale responds, a small smile on his face at the chuckle, even if he knows the demon isn’t okay.

A while passed. During that time, Aziraphale was able to encourage Crowley to open up about what was causing him issues.   
“…ah…” Aziraphale breathed.   
“So in this nightmare, you…killed me?” Aziraphale asked.   
“Yep. It was like I knew I had done it…but I didn’t know why… or how” He sighed.   
“I see” The angel said. _No you don’t. You don’t know what it was like, _the thoughts were clear in Crowley’s head, but he didn’t speak them aloud.   
“No wonder you sounded so distressed. That sounds dreadful” Aziraphale added.  
“Even though it’s over, and it wasn’t real, it still feels like…like I actually did it and now I’m…I don’t know, different” He responds. Aziraphale felt his chest tighten. He wants to wrap the demon in his arms and hold him. Crowley takes a deep breath and finally asks the question that’s been on his mind for so long.   
“Answer me honestly, Aziraphale…have you…” He says softly, sighing.   
“Have you ever been afraid of me?” He asks. Aziraphale hums, a brief moment of thought before he responds.   
“To be quite frank, I did fear you at the start of it all” Aziraphale started. As much as it pained Crowley to hear, he was grateful of the angel’s honesty.   
“But it wasn’t because of _you_ really_._ I was afraid because of what I had been told of demons for years in Heaven. That demons lusted for the death of all life” He continued. The “especially angels” that followed didn’t go unnoticed by Crowley._ He knew that belief. Gabriel only compounded it. Crowley was different though. He’s not just a demon. He’s a fallen angel.   
_“And yet…” Aziraphale says, pulling Crowley from his thoughts.   
“There you were._ A demon_ making conversation with_ me._ From that day on, I never feared you. I came upon the realization that the other angels were wrong about _at least_ one demon” Aziraphale said softly.   
  
“After all, how could I be afraid of the demon who has saved my life” Aziraphale spoke, the question left unfinished.   
“Countless times, in fact! I’m honestly more afraid of what would have happened to me all of those times without you” Aziraphale admitted.   
“Paris, 1793…London, 1941” Aziraphale said softly, thinking back to the times he was saved by the demon.   
“Alexandria, 48BC” Aziraphale said, softer. He looked down to his arm, eyes falling to the burn scar on his arm. _He’d ran into the burning library, hoping to save something, anything. Crowley had to save him, when the exit was blocked. _

“You were there. A _true_ demon wouldn’t have been, right?” Aziraphale said softly, eyes falling to the bunnies on his slippers. He heard a cry from behind the door.

Crowley looked down to his hands, unknowingly mirroring the angel’s position. A flicker of the nightmare appears, a blade piercing through a chest. Crowley grunts, hearing Aziraphale call his name.   
“I’m – ngk – I’m fine… just … what if” He breathes.   
“What if I’m…not really who you think I am, or even who I think I am…” He sighs.   
“What if I’m -”” He murmurs, clutching his chest.   
“You can stop right there, Anthony J Crowley” Aziraphale states.   
“I know you better than anyone. Dear Lord, I’ve known you for 6000 years. And I know, demon or not, you are a good person. You always have been. And always will be” Aziraphale continues.   
“No one could ever change who you are…” Aziraphale pauses, taking a deep breath.   
“And I will never leave your side, precisely because you are _you. _Crowley are you…crying?” Aziraphale asks softly.   
“N-no. Course not. Demon’s don’t fucking cry, you – ngk – ridiculous angel!” Crowley responds. Aziraphale knows he is crying, he knows the demon is.   
“Well then, if that’s the case. Perhaps you could open up now? I know you don’t really want to” Aziraphale asked, a sense of hopefulness in his voice.   
“But if humanity has taught me anything, it’s that we should be there for the people we lo-oo” Aziraphale said, biting his tongue before _that_ word could slip from his tongue. A pink tinge hit his cheeks, he wanted to hide away.   
“I mean care deeply for. Er yes! I wh-what I’m trying to say is that y-you are a-a companion whom I very much want to be beside n-not that I have to be physically beside you at all times – just, oh dear” Aziraphale stuttered and stumbled over his words, trying to resolve the situation that didn’t need resolving.

A few moments of silence passed before -click-, the door unlocked. Aziraphale stood up and turned to face the door. It eased open.   
“Ah! There you are Crowley…dear” Aziraphale murmured. Looking over, he was met with the sight of Crowley, wearing only sunglasses, boxer shorts and a_ cold_ expression on his face.   
“Right…well you came all this way. Come in, if you want, angel” Crowley stated, voice devoid of all emotion.

“I’m not going back to sleep any time soon anyways” Crowley added. Aziraphale reached up, and Crowley immediately tensed with fear as the angel’s hand connected with his glasses.   
“Come now, Crowley. You don’t need these with me” Aziraphale said softly. _I don’t need them. I’m hiding with them.   
_“Hey! Don’t- ngk” Crowley grunted as the glasses came away. He was met with Aziraphale’s soft eyes, as he said Crowley’s name. Crowley looked aside, tears falling from his eyes.   
“I…I look that good, huh” He said, trying to show some confidence.   
“suppose my post-nightmare look isn’t much to look at, eh” He admits. Before he can even _think_ another word, Aziraphale is hugging him impossibly tightly. The tears in his eyes are getting bigger, flowing faster. The angel hushes his sobs.   
“It’s alright my dear… listen to me” Aziraphale murmured.   
“I’m not afraid of you, Crowley. And you mustn’t fear yourself. You _are_ a good person. Never forget that…”Aziraphale murmured.   
“Also…It’s alright to cry, my dear, demon or not” Aziraphale added. It was as though those words broke a damn, leading Crowley to sob in the angel’s arms. He tried to form words, though he didn’t know what he would say.   
  
“I’m not…I’m not crying” Crowley said._ Ah, trying this way._   
“I-I…just something in my eyes…happens…” Crowley started, the lie was blatantly obvious. He grunted a little before finally finishing his sentence with “when you don’t blink and all, snake stuff”.   
“Ah, I see” Aziraphale responded. He rubbed his hand over the rough, scarred skin of Crowley’s shoulder blades.   
“An-and I don’t need your sympathy, b-bloody angel” Crowley said, voice shaky with many unshed tears.   
“Of course not. I just felt like hugging you. Nothing more” Aziraphale said, but both knew it was a lie.   
  
“Angel...” Crowley whispered. Aziraphale hummed not entirely sure if he’d heard the demon.   
“Just uh…don’t go dying on me any time soon. Got it?” Crowley murmured. Aziraphale nodded, though he wasn’t sure if Crowley would notice it.   
“Absolutely” He promised.   
“Mind if I stay for a bit, dear?” Aziraphale added.   
“If you’d like” Crowley responded still gripping tightly onto the angel. _His response may seem indifferent, but both Aziraphale and Crowley know that the demon very much wants Aziraphale to stay, to hold him close until the sun rises. _

That’s what happens. They make their way back to Crowley’s bed, left in the way he’d darted from it when Aziraphale appeared at the door. They slid beneath the duvet together, Aziraphale briefly sitting on the edge of the bed to remove his slippers before he eased under. Crowley wrapped around him, harvesting the angel’s warmth. Aziraphale watched over Crowley, stroking his fingers through the demon’s auburn hair while he slept. The sleep was peaceful, _definitely_ nothing to do with Aziraphale.

When the sun rose, and Crowley was awake. He looked up to Aziraphale. He admired the angel’s beauty, the angel’s courage, the angel in general. He shifted closer, embracing the angel.   
“Thank you” He murmured, voice sandpaper rough. He looked up to the angel, who was looking back down to him. Crowley’s eyes drifted down to Aziraphale’s lips. He knew he was obvious with where he was looking. Part of him hoped that the angel wouldn’t notice, hoped that the angel was too innocent to notice. The other part of him hoped the angel would pick up on it, would grab him and kiss him deeply. It was that latter part that won. Aziraphale leant down, so close that Crowley could _feel_ Aziraphale’s breath on his lips. Aziraphale hesitated for a moment, and then, their lips met.

Fireworks exploded in the dark behind Crowley’s eyes, _when had they closed_. Crowley’s hands slid to fist in Aziraphale’s sleep shirt – the finest, softest Egyptian Cotton, he noted. Aziraphale’s hands were loosely curled around the demon’s slim waist, barely holding, and yet, it was enough for Crowley. Aziraphale was surprised at the demon’s responsiveness to the kiss. He was grateful that neither particularly needed to breathe.

When they eventually did come apart, it was at Crowley’s wish. He shifted, laying side by side with Aziraphale.   
“That was nice…thank you” Crowley murmured. Aziraphale smiled, his hand resting on the duvet. Their hands lay side by side, and while only their pinky fingers were intertwined, it was enough for the pair, who _should_ be hereditary enemies.


End file.
